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military bases in the USA, and there is another report that President
Claire Osterman is dead. How do we know who is telling the truth about
Osterman? Is she dead, or alive? How do we find out?"
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"We shall see," Loco replied. "When the two Americans get here, we will
question them."
"Where is Paco?" Strunk asked.
"He is bringing them here, to the hacienda. One of them claims to have a
code, a way to scramble a message to the USA if we agree to help them."
"I don't trust any of these fucking Americans," Strunk said with heat in
his voice.
"Neither do I," Loco muttered. "I will kill one of the soldiers, to see
if the other one will tell us the truth when he sees his companion die."
"Good," Strunk grunted, turning for the stairway. "Killing one of the
Americans will make the other one tell us the truth about President
Osterman. Maybe she is trying to play both sides of the fence, sending
two men to talk to you of an alliance while simultaneously giving El
Gato weapons with which to assassinate you."
Strunk climbed the steps and went to the ground floor of the hacienda to
await Paco's arrival.
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Paco Valdez had both American soldiers tied to chairs in an adobe room
behind the hacienda where farm tools were kept. The chairs were bolted
to the floor. Each prisoner had his hands and feet strapped to the
chairs. The chairs were bolted to the floor in the dark, windowless room.
Jim Strunk and Paco Valdez stood on either side of the prisoners as Loco
entered the adobe. Two more armed guards were flanking the doorway with
AK-47's cradled in the crooks of their arms.
"Tell me again," Loco began, "about this offer you bring me from
President Osterman. I am very curious, for all our reports indicate your
President is dead."
"She survived the crash," the dark-haired prisoner named Arnoldo Mendoza
said in a hoarse voice.
"Yeah. That's right," the redheaded soldier said, barely conscious after
the blow to his scalp. Blood ran down his neck to his shirtfront.
Loco pulled a gleaming bayonet from a sheath on his belt and moved
closer to the red-haired soldier. "What is your name, americano?"
"Randy. Randy Grimes."
"Are you ready to die for what you told me, Senor Grimes?" Loco asked.
"Do you believe that strongly in what you just told me about your
President?"
"It's the truth. President Osterman is alive. She wants to form an
alliance with you." Randy's words were slurred, hard to understand.
"Do you know the scrambling code for the radio?" Loco kept on.
"No. Only Arnold knows it."
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"Then what do we need with you?" Loco demanded.
"I am the driver. I knew the way across Mexico so we could tell you
about President Osterman's offer. I have papers that let us pass through
Mexican guard posts."
"Only papers? Then we don't need you now, do we?" Loco demanded.
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Randy looked up at Loco, blinking away waves of unconsciousness. "I'll
need to drive the HumVee back," he said. "I know who to talk to at the
checkpoints . . . and where to
go."
"But if your vehicle is not going back, then what purpose do you serve?"
Randy glanced down at the blade in Loco's hands, his eyes filled with
terror. "I'm the only one who can get us back across Mexico. Arnold
doesn't know this country."
Loco placed the tip of his blade against Randy's throat and gave it a
gentle nudge. Blood trickled from the pinprick where the point of the
bayonet pierced his skin.
"You ain't gonna kill me, are you?" Randy asked, tears streaming from
his eyes to trickle down his sunburned cheeks. "I'm part of the team
sent to contact you. President Osterman wants us to join forces with you."
Loco smiled. "If I do kill you, it will send a message to President
Osterman ... if she is still alive, that I will not tolerate bullshit."
"Please don't kill me. I've got a wife an' kids back in Macon."
"Don't kill him," Arnoldo said quickly in fluent Spanish. "I'll never
find my way out of here."
"Who said you were leaving?" Loco asked Arnoldo. "What makes you think
I'd let you leave here alive? You know where my headquarters is now. You
could radio coordinates and before the sun comes up, bombs would be
falling on my roof."
"We were sent to offer you an alliance," Arnoldo insisted, his dark face
turning pale. "Why would you kill us when we came here with peaceful
intentions?"
"I only have your word that your intentions are peaceful," Loco replied,
pressing the long knife blade a little harder into Randy's throat.
"It's the truth," Randy protested as more blood came from his neck. "Why
would we come here otherwise?"
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"To spy on us," Jim Strunk said, his brow knitted into a web of lines. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]